


It Hurt

by ClearlyClarity



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Angst, Bad Writing, Drabble, F/F, Ficlet, Post-Rebellion Story, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 04:06:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12357093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClearlyClarity/pseuds/ClearlyClarity
Summary: Why do I keep hurting you?





	It Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> this prompt combines mdhm 36 (that hurt), 37 (meant no harm), and 38 (blood) requested by homurat! http://clearly-clarity.tumblr.com/post/150482236057/send-a-number-or-2-and-a-pairing-and-ill-try
> 
> it's like a year late but i'm glad you enjoyed it! <3

I gazed down at the forlorn form below me. Like a bird with a broken wing, Homura was curled up on her side, her head lying limply. She cast a figure so lonely and wretched that she seemed as young and helpless as a child. The child she really was; everything she’d gone through had made her grow up far too quickly, had emphasized the circles under her eyes and the coldness in her heart. 

I knelt next to her and she gazed up at me. My arrows didn’t normally wound, but the shaft buried in her heart was scarlet red. Her breathing was shallow and her face was tight with pain. 

“Homura-chan,” I murmured, tasting the bittersweet familiarity of her name on my tongue. 

She didn’t respond but took my hand and held it to her blood-covered chest. She’d let me defeat her, I knew. Keeping me here in her barrier, suppressing my power, carrying the burden of the world’s despair on her shoulders—she was drained utterly. On the final day my eyes glowed gold and she stood, slumped, her eyes gazing at me in much the same way they do now, empty and weary. It was the first time Homura Akemi did not fight wholly with every ounce of her being. 

Looking at Homura now, defeated, her hope—her wish—in tatters, I remembered a day when I also held this broken girl in my arms as she despaired, blood on her face and her leg broken, her soul gem clouded thickly with black mist. I had cradled her face in my hands, telling her how much I cherished what she had done for me. I had let go of her, even though her eyes, glittering with tears, begged me not to go. 

“Homura-chan,” I said again, and she looked up at me. I pressed my face against the soft, feathery fabric of her choker. My voice was muffled as I said, “That hurt, you know.”

“What did?” Her voice was hoarse, her body tensed. Any mention of something that could harm me immediately lights a fire in her, a determination to stop the offender at all costs. This part of her filled me with equal parts affection and frustration. 

“When you tore me apart. Everything started to shatter. I was being pulled in so many directions. I pleaded for you to stop, Homura-chan, but you wouldn’t.” My tears were soaking into her outfit. “I wanted to save you, to take your despair onto my shoulders. Why wouldn’t you let me?”

“I couldn’t let you go,” Homura whispered. “Not without… not without at least giving you the happiness you deserve.”

I don’t deserve to be happy. I abandoned you. “It hurt me when you distanced yourself from me. You wouldn’t let yourself become close to me,” I said. “Even when I didn’t remember.”

Homura exhaled, her breath shaky. “I—I couldn’t. You remembered more when I was near you.”

“That wasn’t all, was it?” I held a strand of Homura’s soft hair in my fingers. “You believed I was happier without you.” 

Homura was trying to pull away now, her chest heaving with the effort, but I pulled her closer. “You’re doing it even now, Homura-chan.” The words were hard to say, extracted painfully through my burning throat. 

She shook her head. “Madoka, please…”

“Why?”

My single word was left hanging in the air. Homura’s face cycled through emotions I couldn’t and could never hope to decipher, and her hand tightened against mine.

Then she rasped, “It hurt.” 

The words struck me more painfully than all the despair I have ever held on my shoulders.

“How could I have loved you, have been near you, after I had hurt you like this?” she breathed. “After I tore you away from yourself, after having broken you—I couldn’t bear it, I couldn’t bear being close to you and receiving your love and kindness when I—“

And her voice caught and her body trembled so hard in my arms that I very nearly let go of her, but I refused to. I watched the tears run down her face and I caressed it, my thumb under her eye, wiping them away. And yet the pain pressed down my heart did not cease. 

I cupped her face and brought it close to mine. “You wanted me to be happy, right, Homura-chan?” I said softly. 

Homura gazed into my eyes, pain and sorrow and love mingled in those violet depths. “I do. More than anything.” 

“Do you love me?”

“Yes.” Her voice was no louder than a whisper, yet I can hear her sincerity loud and clear.

“I love you, Homura-chan,” I said. “That’s why it hurt me when you tried to stay away from me. You were trying to protect me, but it hurt me the most.” My voice shook. “I know you didn’t mean to harm me. You would never do that to me. But that hurt me more than anything.”

Homura sighed. She sounded so tired, so far away. “I’m sorry, Madoka. I keep hurting you. Even now I…”

She gestured to her bloodstained chest, the arrow sunk deeply inside.

“I deserve this,” Homura said. “I wanted to die. And I wanted you to do it.”

“That’s awful. That’s really awful, Homura-chan.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

I grasped onto Homura’s sides, my fingers digging tighter than they should be. I pressed my lips to hers, but I don’t feel her pressing them back. She felt limp and lifeless in my arms, and her eyes were hollow with nothingness.


End file.
